Nietzsche decía que la fe cristiana era una religión nihilista porque negaba y evadía justamente el sentido a la vida terrenal y se sustentaba en una idea celestial improbable. El problema con la visión de Nietzsche es que, al darle sentido exclusivo a la vida terrenal, niega la necesidad de trascendencia del ser humano; por otro lado, por más improbable que pudiera ser la vida celestial, no es imposible, y esa posibilidad es la que seduce a la gran mayoría de las personas

Atheist Richard Dawkins offers a description of God in 23 adjectives: “jealous and proud of it, a petty, unjust, unforgiving control freak; a vindictive, bloodthirsty ethnic cleanser; a misogynist, homophobic, racist, infanticidal, genocidal…, pestilential, megalomaniacal, sadomasochistic, capriciously malevolent bully.” Dawkins doesn’t just disbelieve in God; he detests Him. Dawkins has bought the hermeneutic of suspicion.

In 1976, faith was “a blind trust that goes against the evidence”. Then in 1989, faith is “a mental illness”. Now, in recent years, faith according to the new breed of atheists, is “one of the world’s great evils, comparable to the smallpox virus but harder to eradicate” (Alister McGrath). Dawkins even suggested that faith in God is morally reprehensible. The hermeneutic of suspicion.

John Shelby Spong tells about Michael Goulder, who unlike Richard Dawkins, describes himself as a “non-aggressive atheist.” He asserts that God has no real work to do. It’s not so much “Is God good?” The question for Gould is “What good is He?” This God no longer fights wars and defeats enemies. This God no longer chooses a special people and works through them. This God no longer sends storms, heals the sick, spares the dying, or even judges the sinner. This God no longer rewards goodness and punishes evil. God is an unemployed deity. Goulder asserts that the church has entered exile. God now rings with a hollow emptiness. The power once ascribed to this God is now explained in countless other ways. God is irrelevant.

It’s the Nietzschean “God is dead” line all over again. Americans are really fulfilling the prophecy of a syphilitic and eventually insane German, but a brilliant philosopher. Friedrich Nietzsche wrote over 100 years ago, “God will be dead in the 20th Century.” He was a very bright man. He didn’t argue that there wasn’t a God in the Heavens. One could look at the stars and galaxies all in perfect harmony and know there was a God. What Nietzsche argued was that people would live as if God does not exist – and that’s precisely what we are doing; that they would kill God – and that’s what happened in the 20th Century and what is happening in the 21st.

Nietzsche had a hermeneutic of suspicion (Tim Keller). He suggested that religion was not just a product of wish-fulfillment (Freud); it was not just a way to control the masses (Marx); it was the suggestion that God doesn’t matter anymore. Nietzsche attacked our motives for being religious. We create religion so that we can feel good about ourselves, so that we have a system of payment for the bad things we do. And there is substantially no life difference between atheists and theists.

Rebecca Manly Pippert shares her story (Hope Has Its Reasons). A conversation with a Harvard professor went something like this: “Even though I am an atheist, I genuinely admire people like you who take faith seriously. There is no question that the human race needs help. But honestly Becky, isn’t life the same whether we believe in God or not? Don’t all of us long to be loved and understood?… Life is difficult for all of us. I don’t think cancer cells ask before entering a body, ‘Excuse me, are you a praying person?’ And don’t all of us, believers as well as skeptics, raise our children the best we can? And some make it and some don’t, leaving us with broken hearts and dashed hopes whether we believe in God or not?… And don’t believers fail morally? I grant that many of you do better in certain areas than we do. But I have met my share of religious people who were racists, gluttons, self-righteous, and full of pride, all the while mouthing religious platitudes… What possible difference does God make?”

That Harvard professor’s critique of religion is right on. Believers aren’t exempt from pain. They experience illness, sexist bosses, unemployment, violence, and marital problems just like everyone else. Christians fail morally. We are deeply flawed people.

What difference does religion make? The answer is “No difference.” It is easy to be just religious versions of the same people we’ve always been.

The atheists have it right. Religion is a power play to control others. It is the opiate of the masses. It’s a pain-killer. It’s a crutch for the weak. It’s a way to justify our behavior and allows us to feel good about ourselves. This is the way religion was perceived and what we learn is that Jesus Himself was anti-religious too and had some of the same issues that Frued, Marx, and Nietzche had with organized religion. That’s why he blasted the religious establishment guys, the Pharisees, like He did and kicked over tables and “violated their rules” like He did.

But what happened was that the ideas of these anti-religious establishment philosophers transferred over to God. Now people seem to see God one of two ways. “God does not exist, so life is meaningless.” Or, “God does exist, and here are the rules – keep them.” Jesus offers a corrective to all this and basically asserts that “I have fulfilled any requirement necessary to procure the salvation of mankind. All religion is inadequate and insufficient. And if you want to know what God is like and how He feels about humanity, then look at my life.”

Christianity goes beyond Judaism. It’s not just repackaging of the same system. Judaism (religion) could not contain it and it answers the deeper questions of life. Christianity blasts the lie that we’re OK or that we’re in charge. It shatters our religion. We can’t hide behind religion anymore. We want God without the hassle of looking at the mess we’ve become. Christianity forces you to look at the mess you’ve become.

What Nietzsche failed to consider is that in Christianity, God himself became the payment. In no other religion, do you have god or the gods becoming a payment for human evil. Stott says it best: “For the essence of sin is man substituting himself for God, while the essence of salvation is God substituting himself for man.” The tragedy is that when people turn away from God and turn to religion or man-made theories, they begin to see themselves as the center of the universe and they miss grace. We hate not being god, just like Dawkins.

I deeply believe that the crisis we face today is not a crisis of the economy or the stock market or health care, the real crisis in American life today is a crisis of values. What can we believe in anymore? There is only one answer. God became flesh. He became a person in the person of Jesus Christ. He’s come over from the other side of the hedge to let us know that there is a true and living God, and that an unseen world parallel to this one exists and there is a great battle raging for the minds and allegiance of creation.

Religion has been replaced by Relationship.

“keine geringe kunst ist schlafen: es thut schon noth, den ganzen tag darauf hin zu wachen.”

(it is no small art to sleep: for that purpose, you must keep awake all day.)

- nietzche, “von den lehrstühlen der tugend” (on the teachers of virtue)

p.s. this is obviously incorrect german, but i don’t believe in capital letters…

Sort of along the same tract as my “religion provides order” argument for why religion won’t ever dissipate in favor of earthly reasoning is that religion provides another basic need for humans:  peace of soul and happiness.  Here’s a quote from the book When Nietzsche Wept by psychiatrist Irvin Yalom, an excellent intellectual novel about the personal life and philosophy of Friedrich Nietzsche:

There [is] a basic division of the ways of men:  those who wish for peace of soul and happiness must believe and embrace faith, while those who wish to pursue the truth must forsake peace of mind and devote their life to inquiry.

Religion is comforting in that it relieves the burden of uncertainty, which almost certainly entails any venture into the realm of intellectual honesty and rational inquiry.  Most people either can’t or choose not to embrace such uncertainty.  I venture to say that most people can’t handle it.  I’m not so sure I can either.  But, for now, I seem to be doing ok.

Perhaps someday when I’m older I’ll seek such comfort.  But for now, the notion of being comfortable with myself makes me uncomfortable.

I’ve decided when I am reincarnated, that I am going to come back as Edward R. Murrow.  I don’t CARE if he’s been dead a long time!

Go ask Friedrich.

Can’t you see the resemblance?

“La mente del hombre socialista falla en comprender que la distribución desigual del bienestar, poder y conocimientos son esenciales en una comunidad parar ejercitar continuamente sentimientos tales como piedad, compasión, generosidad y protección, que constituyen los ingredientes de la única civilización que ha persistido entre los hombres”.Nietzche (1)
¡Ay!. Caro autor…
Llevamos una larga década en que declina el pensamiento neoliberal, pero la larga esperanza de la vieja y conservadora izquierda no puede colapsar este pensamiento. Primero, y atrevido. La desigualdad es una inexplicable y angustiosa tormenta en la cual los pájaros intentan escapar, dejando tras de si a los mas débiles. Nada detiene a la imaginaria naturaleza de los monos-trabajadores. Han creado un paraíso en el cual de las capacidades y los esfuerzos se dan unos resultados. ¡Y la sociedad les premia!.
Pero, segundo, la compasión, la generosidad y la protección surgen del infierno de la diferencias. Cada individuo debe adivinar donde esta su sustancia. ¿En la ayuda?. ¿En la resistencia?. ¿En el atrevimiento para crear redes sociales que alteren esta fantástica y nauseabunda sociedad?.
“El ogro nazi se extendió mas allá de los países antiguos. Un grupo pequeño, luego grande, batió con fuerza su razón, para convertirle a aquel espeso silencio de cadáveres y sufrimiento, en una sana y vigorosa sociedad basada en la libertad”.
Y media Europa hubo de esperar cuarenta años más…

(1)http://www.scribd.com/doc/7145389/Friedrich-Nietzsche-Mi-Hermana-y-Yo

” هیچ شاگردی تا ابد در بـَـر ِ معلم اش نخواهد ماند. “

یکی از تناقض هایی که توی نوشته های نیچه بهش بر می خورین رویکردش نسبت به آموختن ( به دیگران) و آموزگاری یه. چیزی که البته اولین بار توسط یکی که تازه شروع کرده بود خوندن از من پرسیده شد. از یه طرف چندین بار از آموزگاری بد می گه و از اون طرف خودش این کار رو انجام می ده و واسه خودش شاگرد جمع می کنه. من این تناقض رو این جوری واسه خودم حل کردم که اون با “آموزگار بودن” مخالف نیست، با خلق و خوی آموزگاری داشتن مخالفه. عقیده ای که البته خود من تا امروز باهاش مخالف بودم، اما امروز اتفاقی افتاد که دارم حس می کنم این “عادت” عادت خوبی نیست. البته هنوز یه کم زوده که بخوام اتفاقات پیش اومده رو تجزیه تحلیل کنم اما….
آموختن به دیگران کار خطر ناکیه چون می تونه نا خودآگاه به عادت تبدیل بشه، و این عادت هایی که نا خود آگاه اند خیلی خطرناکن. کم کم عادت می کنین که توی تک تک کارهاتون توی تک تک انتخاب هاتون به این نکته توجه کنین، عرضه کردن خودتون به دیگران عادی می شه، تلاش برای رشد دادنشون تو راهی که خودتون دوست دارین. حتی امکان داره بدون این که خودتون بفهمین توی انتخاب های شخصی زندگی تون هم اعمالش کنین. مثلن چیزی که من توی خیلی آدم های هم طبقه ی خودم می بینم ( و مخصوصن در پسر ها) اینه که می گن معشوق ما باید از لحاظ سطح سواد و فرهنگ و عمق و از این جور ارزش ها در سطح ما باشه تا این جاش درش حرفی نیست. اما اون جایی که اشتباه می شه اینه که یه قسمت بزرگی از این آدم ها می رن سراغ کسایی که تو همون راهی که خودشون هستن پا گذاشتن اما چند قدمی عقب ترن. مثلن همین امروز یکی از دوست هام یه جمله ای گفت که دقیقن همین جمله رو چند وقت پیش خودم هم گفته بودم ” یه کم بچه است اما عیب نداره خودم دستش رو می گیرم می یارم بالا” خوب این طور فکر کردن از دو دید کاملن متفاوت عیب داره.
1. این که ما هر کدوم مون خودمون راهمون رو پیدا کردیم و این که یک نفر چند قدم اول راهش رو درست از روی جا پاهای تو برداشته یا حتی نزدیکشون دلیل نمی شه که تا آخرش رو بخواد تو راه تو ادامه بده، یه مثالی که یه کم مشخص تر به نظر بیاد راهیه که ملت ها به سمت دموکراسی طی می کنن. این راهیه که قدم به قدمش رو باید خود جامعه برداره و با توجه به Statistic خودش. بدون هیچ گونه قابلیت تعمیم دادنی. روشن فکر های سکولار زمان مشروطیت و امثال تقی زاده ایرادشون این بود که می خواستن رنسانس رو عینن توی ایران پیاده کنن و همین باعث شد نه تنها شکست بخورن بلکه روشن فکر های امروز ایران حتی قشر سکولار به خوبی ازشون یاد نکنن. در پایان شاید نتیجه ی اتفاقات جاریه ی مملکت خیلی نزدیک باشه به اون چیزی که مد نظر اون ها بود اما مسیری کاملن متفاوت طی شده. یا مثلن جنگ افغانستان. آمریکا می گه دموکراسی رو برد اون جا اما تو این انخابات اخیرشون چه اتفاقی افتاد؟ دموکراسی با فقر مردم جمع پذیر نیست، همون طور که با فرهنگ پایین و بی سوادی عمومی مردم جمع پذیر نیست. ( کلن آمریکا نسبت به دموکراسی و حقوق بشر یه دید پدرانه و آموزگارانه داره و خیلی دوست داره به بقیه عرضه شون کنه که البته دید اشتباهی هم هست) یادم می یاد اون جای “چنین گفت زرتشت” رو که زرتشت می گفت باید شاگرد هام رو ” تک تک ” در جزیره هایی به بند بکشم تا خودشون آفرینندگی رو تمرین کنن ( نقل به مضمون و از حافظه ) . ماجرا دقیقن در همینه. تک تک تا خودشون آفرینندگی رو تمرین کنن و ارزش بیافرینن، ارزش هایی حتی متفاوت با ارزش های زرتشت.
2. این دقیقن همون چیزیه که امروز تو چشم من Bold شد. مسئله ی ناسازگاری نفع آموزگار و آموزنده در خیلی از مواقع. و دو راهی ای که افرادی که “خلق و خوی آموزگاری” دارن این جور مواقع درش گیر می کنن. من امروز تو همچین دو راهی ای گیر کردم و یک راهی رو انتخاب کردم که الان این ” خلق و خو” داره به صورت یه نفس لوامه مثب عذاب وجدان اذیتم می کنه. خیلی از مواقع آدم نمی تونه منافع خودش رو بفروشه مثل امروز من، اما وقتی چند ساعتی می گذره به خودت می گی ” تو که تا امروز همیشه باعث پیشرفتش بودی چرا امروز ازش پس نگرفتی شون؟ تو موظف بودی که اون طور که در مواقع مشابه باهاش برخورد خواهد شد برخورد کنی چرا از همون نوع برخورد های غیر عادی خودت رو کردی؟” و تنها جوابی که داری به خودت بدی اینه که ” نمی تونستم”. بعد برای این که خودت رو تبرءه کنی برمی گردی عقب تر و تک تک رفتار های قبلیت رو آنالیز می کنی و صرفن حسرت می خوری از نفع هایی که نبردی و چیزهایی که خودت رو ازشون محروم کردی. بعد دوباره می خوای خودت رو تبرئه کنی می گی عوضش کلی اون رو “بزرگ” کردم. کلی پیش رفتش دادم. و شک می کنی حالا که این همه چیز بهش یاد دادم بر اساس پیش فرض درستی بود؟ ” مثل هندسه می مونه هندسه های اقلیدسی وغیر اقلیدسی هر دو درستن فقط بر اساس فرض های متفاوت پایه ریزی شدن ” و بعدش یادت می یاد که تخته سیاه تمرین های اون خودت بودی که ” غیر اقلیدسی ” هستی ولی جهان عادی شدیدن ” اقلیدسیه ” و مطمئن نیستی که شاگردت از پس تعمیم بر می یاد یا نه؟ یهو به خودت می یای می بینی هر دو کار رو نصفه نیمه رها کردی نتونستی معلم خوبی باشی اما زندگیت رو هم مثل یه چریک فدا کردی. چریکی که تک و تنها تو جنگل ها زندگی کرد و حالا احساس می کنه به تیر ِ هم مسلک هاش کشته شده.
ایرادی نداره من امروز کار اشتباهی نکردم چون بازی امروز برای من “باخت – باخت” بود. و این در بطن نوع رفتاری بود که من انتخاب کرده بودم برای بازی با اون فرد. این صفت ِ باخت – باخت در بطن ” خلق و خوی آموزگاریه”.

پی نوشت : شخصن از این به بعد سعی می کنم این رفتارم عوض شه. اما فعلن علی الحساب یه پند دارم براتون، ” قاعده ی اَنعام” اما به خاطر ماهیت ضد انسانیش و برای حفظ کلاس حقوق بشریم عمومی نمی گمش اگه کسی خواست خصوصی بهش می گم.

دوشنبه، یک روز قبل از روز پنجم برج ِ آبان

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The formula of my happiness: a Yes, a No, a straight line, a goal.

  taken from Twilight of the Idols Friedrich Nietzche

Cyborg and Superman

went to battle again

,

Superman says to Cyborg

“You stand in my way”

Cyborg justs laughs

and this what he says:

,

“My feet have grown wheels

My voice bellows broadband waves

My sword splits atoms

my chemicals ease my pain

my skin is an armor alloy

my oil flows through my veins”

,

Superman turns to Cyborg

and then he begins:

“I am potential

I have no skin

I am kinetic

I move with the wind

I’ve already overthrown

the tyranny within.”

‘

Cyborg and Superman

went to battle again

The me-lee is was over

as fast as it began

,

When Cyborg discovered

he buried Superman deep within

beneath Cyborg’s Hybrid halo

Tyranny restored again.

Order was restored again.

‘

Until Cyborg and Superman

go to battle again

When Friedrich Nietzsche proposed the statement that “God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him” it came about because Nietzsche was an atheist and did not believe God existed. In one way he was showing that science had taken God out of the picture. Even though that may have been the original intent if you look at Christianity today the statement could also be applied that “God is dead” in regards to our faith. We are not saying that God is actually dead because we believe that He is alive! As Christians we often don’t really live like God is actually alive though. During the next few weeks we want to take a look at what we as Christians can do to revive our dead faith and become what God intends for us to be for Him.

If you look around at the world there are many Christians who seem to be living in this area of “dead faith”. They believe that Jesus is their Savior. The real issue is you wouldn’t be able to tell from looking at their lives that they are Christians. We as a culture are in a place where becoming practical atheists while professing to be Christians seems to be the normal way to do life. This is something we as the youth must start to change so we can get back to the original intent of what we are all about.

There are many stances on how we as Christians should live. If we really want to get down to the core of what we are about we are supposed to be different. Somewhere along our lineage we have implanted in our mind that Christians are supposed to stay contained to their Christian friends, their Christian church, their Christian t-shirts and sayings, but Jesus was never contained. We live in a society of cookie cutter Christians who all look the same as everyone else. While we should make every effort to live differently in this world most Christians look exactly the same as the rest of the world. We must stop living like this because it conveys the message that we really don’t care about God, so as Nietzsche suggested we live like “God is dead”.

When we look at the life of Jesus Christ who we know was sent as God incarnate to save us from our sins there was nothing ordinary about His life. He didn’t just go to the places everyone else went and he didn’t do the things that the typical “good Jewish person” would have done. This doesn’t mean that Jesus did anything wrong but that the culture had gotten it all wrong. The Pharisees had lead the people into a very legalistic culture and if we look at our present day culture there are not many differences. There is a problem with Christianity when we are the ones who are legislating our religion, persecuting minority groups, and living like non-believers when we should be living like Christ.

The great thing is we still have a chance to make changes that will positively effect our generation. We are stuck in a cycle we must get out from under. Superchick sums it up well in their song Hero when they say:

Now it’s our time to pick a side.
So don’t keep walking by not wanting to intervene,
Cause you just want to exist and never be seen.
So let’s wake up, change the world
Our time is now

It is time for a revolution of our generation that isn’t afraid to love those who others won’t love. It is our time to make a change instead of allowing it to continue on the current path. Instead of living in our Christian circle we need to break out. We need to flood the world with a love they have never seen before, something no one ever gives. We need to spend less time on legislating religion and more time on actually taking time to love the people around us.

Christ spent most of His time hanging out with those people who were living in sin. He was the ultimate example of what we should look like. Be willing to do life with those who are far from God and just be different. We were not called to be like everyone else, but to be the ones willing to stand for the oppressed, the persecuted, the underprivileged, and the ones who have no voice to offer. We should not sit in our houses with all of our stuff and look down on those who are not like us.

The things of this world will fade and at the end of our lives it will not matter what people here say about us. The only opinion that will matter is that of our Heavenly King. Begin to look internally and see how your life is doing. Are you living out an untamed faith that is fully on fire for God? On the flip side of that are you living like God may as well be dead because you say what you believe but never act it out? Take some time to see where you are and look for our upcoming blogs about how we can make a difference to show the world our God is alive. Let us be different for the cause of Christ!

Dive Deep,

KC

I meant to have this conversation, but it was my turn to listen today, to the joy my father had had in finding his calling–finding a job where he could do what he has done best: love children through serving them as his equals. And listening to my sister do what she does best, stand out and be unashamed of it because she is fulfilling who she is. I had all these ideas in my head I wanted to share and was frustrated that I had not shared. And then, I sit here and write about how we choose the earth’s rules, we bind ourselves to what others have for the sake of being valid–we being the Israelites wanting a king over judges; we being Christians who want our words shouted from rooftops, in every corner of the world, overlooking who and what is destroyed in the process and as I am being ‘called’ by those I had left because I chose a path for the same reasons just mentioned–wanting to be like others.

I suppose, that’s my frustration with the parallels between scripture and Plato. In Christian history, we discuss that the conversion of the empire was an act of God but, with the incorporation of the arts of persuasion by former empires…what of Jesus’ life and works had been omitted to gain the favor of empires? Really? Why, if we are so promising, do we continue to condone the violence of luxuries in contrast with our greatest communities’ devotion–the wealth of the Catholic church in contrast with the poverty in Latin America–asking for tithings to support minister while nonprofits are shrinking rapidly and the ones that aren’t are being sustained by filling quotas of success while the neediest fall through the cracks because of those who can make it because they have fewer setbacks.

In short, sometimes I fill up these pages with words because I have lost faith in the power of my own compassion…or its results are not the ones for which I had hoped…I gave up on the path that appears the most reasonable, because I hd come to learn it wasn’t mine to fulfill, just a cross, like Simon, I had taken up because I was asked…and I feel like I took the crucifixion away from Jesus–sometimes, I believe, doing good can be like that: not ours to do, even as others ask it.

Nietzsche es uno de los pensadores que más allá de las ideas que pudo aportar a la humanidad también se convirtió en un personaje casi mítico lo cuál lo llevo a sobrevivir en la cultura popular. Es curiosamente en estos últimos tiempos dónde los ideales posmodernos han tratado de recobrar la importancia de Nietzsche como autor de la idea de “tomar un camino nuevo ” en palabras de Vattimo frente a sus detractores dentro de las filosofía analítica, algunos de cuales le niegan su condición de filósofo. Pero más allá de ello la prueba su influencia es su presencia en los medios audiovisuales. Un caso muy comentado fue en Little Miss Sunshine película dónde el personaje de Dwayne, cansado de seguir las normas y buscando cumplir sus propios sueños, aparece leyendo Así habló Zaratustra y con un polo con la cara de Nietzsche. Otro caso más reciente es en el videoclip I’ve Got Friends de la banda de indie rock Manchester Orchestra, el videoclip de una canción que trata sobre la amistad, muestra un Nietzsche de carácter metafísico, en el caso de esta melodiosa y enérgica canción como diría Nietzsche: “sin música, la vida seria un error”.

.

o eterno retorno

.

me lembro bem, eu já fui um deus

daqueles que moviam mundos e fundos

bastava rir para ver tudo florir

mas aqueles que eu chamava de meus

aqueles que deveriam ter fé

foram virando as costas

e, sem mais nem menos, me largaram a pé

sem perguntas e sem respostas

.

eu sabia que a sensação de estar só

como tudo nesse mundo

um belo dia, retornaria ao pó

e assim me tornei um vagabundo

um inútil pária das estrelas

um monumento ao nada que sirva

um sinônimo de ovelha

não de pastor ou cristo ou shiva

.

o mundo era meu, estava escrito,

no entanto, não tomei posse

e deixei o bem dito pelo maldito

mas se a luz é sombra até que se mostre

encontrei no breu o farol da volta

a poesia me pegou na veia

e, com mil poetas como escolta,

voltei à vida com a caneta cheia!

.

Guardador de Vaca

.

.

This is the first post that’s coming out of my attempt to read ‘Discipline and Punish‘ by Michel Foucault. I want to start with the broadest idea of the book: an analysis of how our attitudes to and methods of punishment have changed in the emergence of modern society.

Foucault’s story is like this: in the previous ideology of punishment, the criminal appeared as something outside of and opposed to the social body – that social body being identified with the body of the king. The function of punishment was to reaffirm the superiority of the sovereign body over the criminal’s body by destroying it; the more complete the destruction, the more effective. Hence criminals taken out in public, tortured, dismembered, and finally executed.

In the currently ascendant ideology of punishment, the criminal appeared as always still a part of the social body, but a malfunctioning and diseased part (partly because the social body was now the nation and the people, not the sovereign). So now the function of punishment is to restore it to health – to strengthen and clean society.

Some key consequences of this new approach to punishment: that rather than seeking excess (after all, to rip off someone’s flesh with pincers, and kill them, and then string out their guts, is pretty excessive) it had to seek balance between two opposed imperatives. On the one hand, to attack and harm (after all, that’s what punishment is), but on the other, to respect and preserve the criminal (for they must eventually be returned to society in ‘mended’ form).

Secondly, knowledge of the criminal now becomes vital – detailed understanding so that they can be changed both inside and outside. This again tells against ‘excess’ and ‘violence’, because they might disrupt the collection of systematic data. The prison thus appears as the paradigm of punishment it preserves a symbolic ’something’ about the prisoner that is not violated (they can keep their bodily integrity as long as they follow the regulations) and because its regimented, drawn-out nature allows for the collection of detailed information, the detailed composition of schedules and regulations, and the endeavour of trying to ‘fix’ the defective human being.

That’s how Foucault presents matters – and in many respects this account is not too different from the conventional liberal story. As society became more ‘civilised’, its efforts at punishment shifted away from being motivated by base motives of vengeance and cruelty, and came to embrace ‘humanitarian’ punishment that respected the ‘rights’ and ‘dignity’ of the criminal, along with seeking to ‘understand’ them so as to ‘rehabilitate’ them.

The two stories are clearly referring to the same phenomenon, but presenting it in quite different ways – in essence, for the liberal, this new ‘humanitarianism’ is the opposite of the preceding attitudes towards punishment, while for Foucault, it is a different version of them.

It’s Foucault’s interpretation that makes most sense to me – it looks both more likely that the new approach should take over a heavy debt to the former, and similar foundations, and also more suited to explaining the defects of ‘humanitarianism’ that sit uneasily with its avowed principles.

What I want to add, and explore, is that this change looks like an example of a more widely recognisable psychological phenomenon: a sort of ’sadistic-altruistic shift’. If I enjoy exercising power, then the way that I prefer to do so is liable to become more destructive and sadistic as I feel more threatened and insecure, and more ‘benevolent’ as I feel more secure and confident. Under threat, I must exhibit power by destroying the threat as much as possible – with more security, I can rise my sights to aim at a more refined form of power, that would make the recipient accept my dominance with gratitude.

So it seems that what’s happened is that as ’society’ becomes stronger (and, insofar as certain groups have effective control over society and its resources, as they become stronger) its sense of that strength makes it less interested in merely destroying its ‘enemies within’, and more interested in a greater expression of dominance – ‘reforming’ them.

What might this suggest about the future? There are three obvious thoughts one might suggest.

Firstly, it might be that this is neither an improvement nor a worsening, merely a change of form, and in a century or two we’ll merely get another form of the same will-to-power. We may document the development of humanitarianism, but see nothing of great promise or threat in it. Foucault doesn’t explicitly say anything like this, but to me it seems to be, in practice, the implication of the general future-agnosticism of him and his pomo friends.

Secondly, it might be that this humanitarian form of power is actually, in its own way, worse – perhaps not now, but for the future. We might predict that if society continues to develop as it has, the institutions of discipline – prisons among them – will become so generalised that no other tendency of impulse will be able to contest the ‘will to rehabilitative power’. This possibility is explored in books like 1984 and Brave New World – in both cases, an omnipotent power controls all of society ‘for its own benefit’, though in different ways.

Thirdly, it might be that humanitarianism is a progressive step, and that its further development will be in the direction of its own dissolution (that is, dissolution as a particular form of power-relationship).

That would involve telling a story like this: the reason why the human psyche finds ‘rehabilitation’ a more satisfying form of domination (and hence prefers it when it has sufficient confidence) is because, together with self-defensive urges, it naturally contains a wish for fellowship and reconciliation. Its perspective naturally reaches out to the other person’s shoes, and humanitarian punishment provides a mix of these two: it combines power-over with a measure of empathy and fellowship.

Consequently, when that psyche’s power and confidence increases even more, the need for domination ebbs, while the need for fellowship strengthens. The amount of control and self-assertion-by-power-over that’s needed is less: the psyche is less afraid of the other’s unpredictability, and so is more willing to grant it freedom, more willing to let go of some control – while the need for fellowship, in order to be able to sleep at night, does not similarly weaken.

Eventually, it becomes more satisfying to let the other be free, and to enjoy the sense of self that comes from being recognised by one whom you recognise (am I sounding Hegelian enough?), than to seek to control them. It is still the same desire, at base – still will-to-power (am I sounding Nietzschean enough?), but now finding satisfaction not in triumph of ‘me’ over ‘you’ but of ‘us’ over our the very alienation that made ‘me-over-you’ make sense.

The key claim here, in amongst the German philosophy, is that our desire to affirm ourselves by dominating others (rather than in more social ways) is a product of fear and weakness, and that therefore, if the curret processes of technology and social development continue, it will be gradually reduced.

That amounts, arguably, to a particularly specific form of the oft-debated idea that ‘human beings are naturally good’. It also implies that the predictions of such novels as ‘Brave New World’ are not natural extensions of current trends, but rather the product of an artificial (and, over time, likely unstable) holding up of those trends – that the lack of interest in freedom or transcendence, and the great willingness to control and manipulate, which such dystopias envisage, would need a setting of societal fear, weakness, and vulnerability that the technology they possess would be in serious tension with.

Such a position might seem blithely optimistic. It might also seem determinist, in that it suggests that the cycles of cruelty will wear out due to relatively apolitical trends in technology, rather than by ‘our’ efforts to break them.

Such allegations are perhaps valid, and perhaps not. They certainly don’t imply that it’s not nevertheless true.

I came across a pretty cool essay on Jim Morrison and Dionysus, and the pagan spiritual implications of Morrison’s life, music, philosophy, and his unique and fascinating madness. It gets a little closer to what I was trying to write a few days ago about the Lizard King. With all due respect and entirely without permission, I am reprinting it here in entirety:

THE CULT OF THE LIZARD KING
by Delia Morgan

I. The Rock God:

Jim Morrison–rock star, poet, prophet, electric shaman, and god incarnate. The lead singer of the 1960’s acid rock band known as The Doors, Jim Morrison identified himself very strongly with Dionysos. The Doors were the first group to really do rock concerts as ritual, as a means of taking the audience on a psycho-religious trip. They took their name from Aldous Huxley’s quote (here paraphrased) that “When the Doors of perception are cleansed, we will see things as they truly are–infinite.” Morrison described their mission in terms of trying to “Break On Through” to a bigger reality: “There are things that are known, and things that are unknown, and in between are the Doors.”

Morrison, with his “Greek God” beauty, his fiery passion and dark mysterious persona, has been considered a Dionysos incarnate. He certainly tried to bring something like shamanism and Greek drama to rock music and to the stage; he tried to shock people out of their complacency and into a terrifying and liberating ecstasy. Since his death at a young age in 1971, a cult has grown around him; many people, myself included, sense his presence as a guiding force, build altars to him, etc. There was even a “First Church of the Doors” at one time.

Morrison himself was, by all accounts, a man as brilliant as he was daring. At a young age he had read extensively on shamanism and ancient mythology, including James Frazer’s “The Golden Bough” (much of which is about Dionysos); he was also quite taken with Friedrich Nietzsche’s passionate vision of Dionysos as portrayed in “The Birth of Tragedy.” One of the last books he had been reading before his death was Jane Ellen Harrison’s voluminous and challenging “Prolegomena to the Study of Greek Religion” which is also mostly about Dionysos. It seems to me that Morrison let himself be completely possessed by Dionysos, until the man and the god were irrevocably merged; he carried the torch of his mythic Dionysian vision all the way to his death.

Unfortunately, most people never quite ‘got’ what he was trying to do at the time, which was religion. Rock critics called him pretentious for taking himself so seriously; few of them knew enough about myth and religion to put the pieces together. Ray Manzarek’s recent book “Light My Fire” is a personal history of the Doors, and also talks about Morrison as Dionysos.

Here are just a few quotes from Morrison’s songs and poetry where the dark and Dionysian mystic slips through:

“I call upon the dark hidden gods of the blood…”

“Where is the wine we were promised, the new wine…?”

“We could plan a murder, or start a religion…”

“I promised I would drown myself in mystic heated wine…”

“Let us reinvent the gods, all the myths of the ages;
celebrate symbols from deep elder forests…”

“I am a guide to the labyrinth.”

II. Perspectives on the Morrisonian mythos:

Some perceptive authors and music critics at the time caught on to the Dionysian element in Morrison’s philosophy and in his performances; others have come to realize this in retrospect. (Still others never caught on, and can’t understand what all the fuss is about.)

The following excerpt from a Doors website makes explicit the Doors’ connection to Pagan spiritual sentiment:

http://www.elektra.com/rock_club/doors/bio.html

During the late 1960’s bands sang of love and peace while acid was passed out. But for The Doors it was different. The nights belonged to Pan and Dionysus, the gods of revelry and rebirth, and the songs invoked their potent passions–the Oedipal nightmare of “The End,” the breathless gallop of “Not to Touch the Earth,” the doom of “Hyacinth House,” the ecstasy of “Light My Fire,” the dark uneasy undertones of “Can’t See Your Face in My Mind,” and the alluring loss of consciousness in “Crystal Ship.” And as with Dionysus, The Doors willingly offered themselves as a sacrifice to be torn apart, to bleed, to die, to be reborn for yet another night in another town.

The pagan/Dionysian theme is expanded upon by Danny Sugerman in the following excerpts from the introduction to the famous biography of Jim Morrison, titled “No One Here Gets Out Alive.”

http://www.thedoors.com/beta/mythos.htm

DOORS MYTHOS
by Danny Sugerman

“Though the favorites of the gods die young, they also live eternally in the company of gods.”
– Fredrich Nietzsche, The Birth of Tragedy

An account of initiation into the mysteries of the goddess Isis survives in only one in-person account, an ancient text that translated reads: “I approached the frontier of death, I saw the threshold of Persephone, I journeyed through all the elements and came back, I saw at midnight the sun, sparkling in white light, I came close to the gods of the upper and the netherworld and adored them near at hand. ” This all happened at night. With music and dance and performance. The concert as ritual, as initiation. The spell cast. Extraordinary elements were loosed that have resided in the ether for hundreds of thousands of years, dormant within us all, requiring only an awakening.

Of course, psychedelic drugs as well as alcohol could encourage the unfolding of events. A Greek musicologist gives his description of a Bacchic initiation as catharsis: “This is the purpose of Bacchic initiation, that the depressive anxiety of people, produced by their state of life, or some misfortune, be cleared away through melodies and dances of the ritual.”

There is a strange tantalizing fascination evoked by fragments of ancient pagan mysteries: the darkness and the light, the agony and the ecstasy, the sacrifice and bliss, the wine and the ear of grain (hallucinogenic fungi). For the ancients it was enough to know there were doors to a secret dimension that might open for those who earnestly sought them. Such hopes and needs have not gone away with time. Jim Morrison knew this. Morrison was the first rock star I know of to speak of the mythic implications and archetypal powers of rock ‘n’ roll, about the ritualistic properties of the rock concert. For doing so, the press called him a pretentious asshole: “Don’t take yourself so seriously, Morrison, it’s just rock ‘n’ roll and you’re just a rock singer.”

Jim knew they were wrong, but he didn’t argue. He also knew when the critics insulted him they demeaned his audience. Jim knew that music is magic, performance is worship, and he knew rhythm can set you free. Jim was too aware of the historical relevance of rhythm and music in ritual for those transforming Doors concerts to have been accidental.

From his favorite philosopher, Friedrich Nietzsche, Jim took solace and encouragement in the admonition to “say yes to life.” I never believed that Jim was on a death trip as so many have claimed, and to this day still find it difficult to judge the way he chose to live and die. Jim chose intensity over longevity, to be, as Nietzsche said, “one who does not negate,” who does not say no, who dares to create himself. Jim also must have been braced to read the following Nietzsche quote: “Saying yes to life even in its strangest and hardest problems; the will to life rejoicing over its own inexhaustibility even in the very sacrifice of its highest types-this is what I call Dionysian, that is what I understood as the bridge to the psychology of the tragic poet. Not in order to get rid of terror and pity, not in order to purge oneself of a dangerous effect by its vehement discharge, but in order to be oneself the eternal joy of becoming, beyond all terror and pity. “

It was Jim’s insatiable thirst for life that killed him, not any love of death.

III. Morrison Today

Why, among all stars in that infamous rock-n-roll heaven, is Jim Morrison uniquely qualified as an avatar of Dionysos? It’s no doubt true that various worthy and charismatic figures in rock-n-roll have gained something of a fanatical cult following. Visions of Elvis, etc. One recent translation of Euripedes’ play “The Bacchae” even put Elvis on the cover. But, really, it should have been Jim.

Morrison was, as far as I know of, the first or only rock performer to actually identify with Dionysos, and to express (sometimes subtly) the stated intent of trying to bring back the old pagan religions. He was also the only one to do serious research on the cult of Dionysos, and to attempt to recreate the cathartic experience of Greek tragedy as a ritual on the stage. He forged a connection between shamanism and Dionysiac cult: the shaman, by going on a spirit journey, could heal the tribe; then the rock performer, by making the presence of Dionysos manifest, and by bringing the audience with him, could create a healing breakthrough for both himself and the spectators/participants. He was brilliant, and possibly mad.

He was also the performer who (in my view) best expressed the enigmatic, mysterious qualities of Dionysos himself – the paradoxical juxtaposition of sweetness and violence, ecstasy and agony, deep masculinity and androgynous beauty, orgasmic chaos and graceful precision. Etc., etc.

I have no doubt that the spirit of Dionysos permeated the world of rock music in the 60’s, and even somewhat today. But it remains that Jim Morrison alone gave himself to Dionysos, entirely and without reservation, to the very end; and all for the purpose of bringing back Dionysian religion to a world without a clue.

And since his death, he has become a real and guiding presence for many devotees; in other words – a god. Doors fans have built altars and web shrines, conducted rituals in his honor and written poems about their spiritual encounters with Jim. He was certainly a powerful force in my own pagan awakening. This point came home to me, in many ways over the years; I’ll relate one.

One evening, I was sitting on the couch reading Jane Ellen Harrison’s “Prolegomena to the Study of Greek Religion,” a book which deals extensively with the religion of Dionysos. I was at the section where she describes how the dead hero becomes transformed into a god. I got very excited, and was scribbling notes in the margins, about how I saw this process of heroic deification as applying to Jim Morrison. (Snakes figured largely into this process, as they did in the cult of Dionysos; and Doors fans know all about Jim and “the ancient snake.”)

Suddenly, for no reason, I had a strong urge to turn on the television. (I almost never watched it; my roommate did.) When I did so, there was a program about the history of rock music, and they were doing a short segment on Jim Morrison. Then they interviewed the Doors keyboardist Ray Manzarek, on the subject of Jim’s death and/or possible continued existence. Ray said (paraphrased): “Jim isn’t here on earth anymore. Dionysos returned to Olympus, and he’s sitting up there laughing at us.”

This statement, coming right after my reading the same idea in Harrison’s book (and my relating it to Morrison), seemed like a remarkable coincidence to me at the time. I’m sure it was Jim who prompted me to turn the TV on at that moment. A few years later, I learned that (according to Jim’s girlfriend, Wiccan priestess Patricia Kennealy) that Harrison’s book on Greek religion was the very same one that Jim was reading just before he left for Paris, where he died a few months later.

===================================================

“Calling on the Gods…
Cobra on my left, leopard on my right…”
- Jim Morrison, from the album “The Soft Parade”

More of my favourite motivational / inspirational quotes:

A thinker sees his own actions as experiments and questions – as attempts to find out something. Success and failure are for him answers above all.

- Friedrich Nietzche

Human beings, by changing the inner attitudes of their minds, can change the outer aspects of their lives.

- William James

He who postpones the hour of living rightly is like the rustic who waits for the river to run out before he crosses.

- Horace

Links:

Don’t Wait For Your Ship To Come In. . . Swim Out To Meet It

]]> http://summeradventures.wordpress.com/2009/09/15/141/ Tue, 15 Sep 2009 07:03:19 +0000 darinisawesome http://summeradventures.wordpress.com/2009/09/15/141/ http://blackhumoristpress.com/2009/09/14/zimbabwe-and-rhodesia/ Mon, 14 Sep 2009 04:15:11 +0000 blackhumouristpress http://blackhumoristpress.com/2009/09/14/zimbabwe-and-rhodesia/

A tall blond woman with an uncommonly beautiful face walked up wearing a wind breaker that had a patch on it that read, Red Cross.  This tall blond woman went by the name of Jennifer.  Jennifer grew tired of being a sexually desired object for most of her life and at the age of twenty one, spun the globe and purposely kept her index finger below the equator.  It landed in the country of Zimbabwe.  Fortunately for Jennifer, she did not wind up in a country where she had to speak French, Dutch or Portuguese.  The people of Zimbabwe spoke English.  They learned English by the English and for a while, the country went by the name of Rhodesia.  Jennifer wasn’t even born when the country was called that.  In fact Jennifer was living in the country nearly a year when she figured out that Rhodesia and Zimbabwe were the same country. Many white farmers had long since moved out of the country and there were just a smattering of whites in big cities.  Jennifer didn’t seem to mind.  Jennifer went into a grocery store in the capital during her first few days in Zimbabwe in hopes of buying enough food to sustain her for a few days.  Upon entering a clean looking grocery store, Jennifer was shocked to see employees standing around a nearly vacant store.  There was bottled water and a few loaves of bread

 left.  Jennifer had no idea what it meant when the total in Zimbabwean Dollars came to $350,000.00 for two liters of water and a loaf of bread.  She gave the cashier a twenty dollar bill in American money and told her to keep the change.  The cashier pocketed nearly $400,000.00 Zimbabwean Dollars for herself which was the equivalent of a month’s pay.  It was a good day for that woman.  The only problem would be that she would have to spend that money immediately before the value changed.  The value of the Zimbabwean Dollar dropped by the minute.  Inflation was somewhere near 26,000% at the time of Jennifer’s arrival. Today it is nearly 2.2 million percent.  Jennifer picked the second poorest country in the world to make a difference.  As far as reaching the poor and impoverished, Jennifer was right on track.  To compound all of this, the president of the country declared land owned and run by white farmers to be seized.  There were nearly 400 white owned farms that helped the country sustain itself in 2000.  By 2007, there were just a handful of white hold outs that were in danger of not only losing their land but their lives.  Zimbabwe was really not a safe place for white people much less very attractive female white people.

            Now at time when blacks were squatting on white farm land and killing white

farmers, Jennifer showed up as innocent as Bambi.   The unemployment rate was somewhere near 80%. In the capital of Harare, she went to a clinic for women and told a large black woman behind a desk that she wanted to help.  This large black woman was surprised by the beauty and ignorant innocence of a young American woman, in a foreign land, unescorted.  After the initial shock, the woman sent her to the middle of nowhere.  The town she sent her to was dangerous and not far from the border with South Africa.  Most of the men and women were trying to enter South Africa illegally in hopes of finding a job.  Even if one could find a job in Zimbabwe, their currency was worth nearly nothing.  One might need a dump truck of money just to buy a meal.

            Jennifer showed up with a long tight skirt that went to her ankles.  She wore Birkenstock sandals with a shirt with George W. Bush’s face on it.  The caption said, “Wanted for war crimes”.  The people of the town were living in shacks with no plumbing.  There was no school for the children and no infrastructure to speak of.  It was worse than Tijuana in just about everyway and in this cesspool of human misery and squalor.  Jennifer was arguably one of the prettiest women in the world.  She came to the village with a back pack and an acoustic guitar.

            Jennifer’s father was a partner at a large law firm in downtown Chicago.  Their offices took up several floors of a high rise.  To be a part of this law firm was prestigious.  Attorneys were paid well. 

            Jennifer’s father had been a life long Republican.  He voted for every single Republican presidential candidate going back to Barry Goldwater.  Jennifer’s father was religious and driven.  They were Episcopal and lived in a small suburb that was in the top ten richest burgs in the country.  The village is called Kenilworth and all the streets were named after small towns in Great Britain.  England Primarily.  Most of the inhabitants were of British descent and very rich.  Jennifer too was of English lineage.  Ironically, Jack, Jennifer’s father, gave over $10,000.00 a year to an Episcopal missionary who was stationed in Namibia.  Jack was never even sure where that was.  He just knew his money went there to promote Christianity and safe drinking water.

            Jennifer went to prep school in the east and attended Stanford.  It was at Stanford that Jennifer had a history professor that told her that all American history was basically fabricated lies just like the bible and that the age of imperialism had come unravelled after World War II and the United States picked up where Great Britain and France had left off.  A man who had studied his whole life and received a doctorate at the age of

 forty five, challenged young and impressionable people to do something with their lives.  This professor read and re-read H.L Mencken and Nietzche in a studio apartment, with no wife and no family.  His big moment was protesting the war back in the late sixties and getting arrested.  He was promptly bailed out by his parents but told the story for so many years after that his time in jail went from four hours to four weeks.  His fabled plight resembled a Kafka novel rather than a simple act of civil disobedience that was considered to be a step above j walking or spitting on the sidewalk. 

            Be all that as it may, her father, his job, their community, their homogeneity, their insulation and so forth was somehow wrong.  Jennifer’s good fortune to be born into a good family was about as unlucky as some poor bastard’s luck to be born at a squatter’s camp in Zimbabwe near the border with South Africa.  Jennifer bought the line that it was up to her to make a difference.  Jennifer actually did make a difference in the lives of many people in Zimbabwe as did her father.

            Jack, the father of Jennifer, indulged his daughter despite the fact that he worried that at best, she would be gang raped by low level military leader, seeking to over throw Robert Mugabe, the first and only president of Zimbabwe.  At worst, Jack feared that Jennifer would be killed.  Either way, Jack knew that he could not stop Jennifer from doing what she wished.  He never set the stage for the word no and so Jack could not say no to Jennifer.  Jack built a hospital, a church and a school for the people of the town.  Doctors from France came and donated their time to help the people of the town.  Jack came at the insistence of his daughter to the remote town that did not even have a name.  He drove with a guide six hours in a Land Rover Defender on dirt roads until he found his daughter.  Along the way, Jack remembered his father’s friend who he had met in Great Britain during World  War II, was someone who had come from the area that became Rhodesia and then Zimbabwe.  He fought in the Second World War for Great Britain and lived on a farm about an hours drive outside of the city of Salisbury.  Jack’s father had always talked about visiting his old war friend in Rhodesia back when things were going well in the mid to late 1960’s.  They never got there.  Now Jack was riding in a Land Rover on roads that once existed during the days of colonial rule.  In many areas, the paved roads ceased to exist.  It after all had been over forty years since colonial rule.  Jack’s father never lived to visit his old war buddy but his son made it his duty to visit his daughter in what was once Rhodesia.

The children of the town danced and sang for Jack and hugged him.  It was

 the first time in his life that he had ever hugged a black person and the people of southern Africa were not like the caramel colored blacks back home that had mixed with whites at some point somewhere between modern times and the landing of the Mayflower.  The people of the town were blacker than black.  Their skin shined and their teeth and the whites of their eyes contrasted greatly.  Despite the fact that they had very little, they were happy looking and Jack left Africa feeling that he had done something very good despite the fact that he was badgered by his daughter.  Jack felt good about his contributions and that of his daughter until he received the news with a photograph that Jennifer had married a native of Zimbabwe.

            Nkute was like any other poor native of Zimbabwe.  It hadn’t been that way for him when he was young.  Nkute’s father was a well paid servant in a white household near Salisbury.  The man that Nkute’s father worked for was a politician that represented an area of Salisbury in the parliament.  He was part of the Rhodesian Front.  He had a hand in what was called the Lancaster House Agreement.  He wanted to ensure that if black majority rule was on the way, that whites still had a stake in the new government.  Whites were to retain 20% of the seats in parliament.

  Nkute lived in a descent home and was a champion Cricket player when the country was still Rhodesia.  After 1980, things began to change.  The white family that his father worked for moved to New Zealand and his father was out of a job.  Nkute’s family eventually moved out of the city to the country. 

Nkute was as an excellent student  He was sent by his village to school in Australia at the age of fourteen.  Nkute lived at the boarding school.  He was an exceptional student and gifted at soccer or as the call it, football.  He also was a valuable member of the school’s Cricket team.  Nkute did well all throughout school and became a doctor.  Nkute owned a house in suburban Sydney and had a nice life.  While listening to the BBC one day on his car radio, Nkute heard about white farmers being killed and land going to waste in Zimbabwe.  He listened to the reports of runaway inflation and the lack of medical attention for most who inhabited the country.   

Back in the Rhodesian days, white soldiers who assisted the British South Africa Company, were each given 3,000 acres of land through grants.  The leader of the British South Africa Company was a man whose name was Cecil Rhodes, hence the name Rhodesia.  The received a royal charter back in 1889.  The blacks on that land became tenants or were thrown off.  Blacks were given land in low rainfall areas and the good land for farming with good rainfall was given to whites.  At the time of independence, white farmers owned close to 5,000 farms.  The white farmers provided housing, school and hospitals for their black employees.  40% of the farms in the country were run by the 5,000 white farmers who made up over 60% of the country’s GDP.  Rhodesia was the bread basket of Africa.  Nkute understood what it was like to be ruled by white people and was happy as a young boy when independence happened.  It appeared to be the right thing for the majority.  The problem was the land distribution killed Zimbabwe’s ability to sustain itself.  People who did not understand and know how to farm, were given land and let the land go fallow.  It became paramount to import food to feed Zimbabweans.  The rate of malnutrition is at about 45% now.  It is low considering the inflation rate was 2.2% million percent when I first wrote about the inflation rate.  It has now risen again.

  Nkute took a leave of absence for a year from the hospital he worked for in Sydney and went to work for Medcin sans Frontier or Doctors without Borders.  Nkute made his way over to the same town that Jennifer happened to live in and the rest is history.  The normal boy meets girl stuff took place.  He was on good behavior while trying to woo her.  They married in Zimbabwe and disagreed as to where they would eventually live.  Jennifer did not want to remain in Zimbabwe the rest of her life nor immigrate to Australia.  Being in love with his beautiful wife, he decided to follow her back to the United States.  Nkute had to take further courses and training in order to be a full fledged practicing physician in the United States.  They both volunteered with the Red Cross together.

            “Excuse me, I am Nkute Nabazeen and thees ees my wife Jennifer… We har weeth thee RRRRed Crrross… Have you anyone who ees urt frrrom the fire?”  Said Nkute, in his strong southern African English accent.

            Nkute and Jennifer met with the tenants one by one and interviewed them in order to determine if they had somewhere to go for the night. At the end of the night, Nkute and Jennifer returned to their condominium on the 32nd floor that overlooked Lake Michigan. Jennifer went into their bedroom to light candles and prepare to do some yoga to help her unwind from the days events. Nkute purchased the Cricket Ticket on the Dish Network. India was playing South Africa in a test match. Nkute ate a deep dish pizza of spinach and onion, drank a Dutch beer and thought to himself; isn’t life grand?